When I was little, I LOVED getting mail. Heck, I still love getting mail, and I’m totally not a kid now.
My grandmother lived in a different state and wrote me letters quite regularly. She lived on a fixed income, but would often enclose a dollar bill (and a $15 cheque on birthdays)!
She had fancy handwriting, and liked to draw little doodles or use different colors of ink to enhance the hearts, swirls, and Asian lapdogs she created.
I saved all of the letters from Grandmother; I probably saved every letter I ever got from a friend or relative.
My 4-year-old, Deeds, looks forward to the mail arriving each day. Usually there IS something exciting, and usually it is addressed to me.
This means that Deeds has almost daily bouts of self-pity, sighing things like, “I NEVER get any mail.”
I DID get him a magazine subscription; but actually, he is right.
I let him open my mail.
I bought him a toy mail box so that he can pretend mail whenever he feels the need.
But I wonder if getting letters in the mail is becoming an antiquated memory, like when our grandparents talk about walking to the corner store to buy a soda for 5 cents.
When I reflect on it, I think I agree with Deeds, that he is being deprived of a fun and special experience.
Do your children get real letters from anyone?
Do your children also think getting mail is special?
What are your childhood memories about mail?